Sirens Cry
by lezonne
Summary: Sequel to Siren's Call. With the attackers locked away in Azkaban all Hermione and Draco can hope for is an easy-going life. But when Hermione's traits are revealed to the world they have more to worry about than just each other.
1. Prologue

_The light on the horizon was brighter yesterday,_

_With shadows floating over, the scars begin to fade._

_~from Linkin Park's "Final Masquerade"_

Prologue

I've never been one to scare easily.

I suppose that's a lie. If Hermione heard me say that she would bark with laughter and then explain how I was often a scared little boy, especially in the past.

Now I'm scared for entirely different reasons though and none of them have to do with my personal wellbeing.

"Do you suppose there'd be anywhere open this time of night to pick up some fish and chips?" she muses, rubbing her extended belly. The past six months have been kind of a doozie for us.

Listen to me using stupid words like doozie. She's been making fun of me for weeks now because of it. I can only imagine what kind of stupidity will fall out of my mouth once my son is born.

Baby talk. I don't think Malfoy's even know how to properly baby talk to a newborn. I already feel bad for my poor son.

When we finally burst the bubble about Hermione's pregnancy to everyone things happened in an exaggerated whirlwind. There were so many rumors about the event and made-up scenarios about what was happening between us that we actually had to make a statement to put the facts in order.

Of course, we left out some of the stranger facts, like Hermione's Siren heritage. That we've kept on the down-low from the public. It's not as if they need to know.

"It's nearly one," I reply lazily, dragging my fingers through her loose curls. "Most everywhere is closed by this hour."

"I suppose that's true," she sighed, resting her head against my shoulder. Ah, the sweet delirium of pregnancy cravings. I have bought her quite the assortment of strange foods ever since we found out. It got worse when we returned to school.

The Headmaster clearly explained that it would be a scandal for the two of us to be living in the same rooms so long as there is no marriage proposal in the near future while we are still at Hogwarts. While everyone here knows we're an item now that doesn't mean people won't talk if we're sharing a room. It's silly and I disagree with the reasoning, but we're still assigned our dorms from the previous semester. Too bad we still sleep together in mine.

It's been a long time coming but I am finally at peace with life. I have a little bundle of joy coming soon, one that I am very unprepared to handle. Hermione has faith in me, but I'm not sure I have faith in myself.

I pity my poor son. His father won't even know what to do.

* * *

**A/n:** Hello there! If you are reading this then you've stuck with me for this long!

I know this chapter is incredibly short, and I meant for it to be that way. Between this chapter and the next there will be a large jump in time and then maybe some flashbacks, I haven't decided yet. Anyway this was just a super short introduction to get a feel for things.

The following chapters will be between 3-4000 words, so you'll be getting a lot more out of them!

Thanks so much for checking out this story as well as the original. Please leave a review and thoughts!

You can also check out me and full banners for all my stories on facebook. You'll find the link on my profile.

Until next time!


	2. Rose

_Babies are such a nice way to start people._

_~Don Herold_

Graduation day, it came all too fast. And with it came the ever-approaching due-date for my son.

Unfortunately graduation was yesterday and today I'm helping Hermione move her things into the Manor. It's only a temporary stay, one that should only last a week or two. I've banished my father away from my wing entirely after everything he did, and I'm completely uncomfortable with staying here with my girlfriend and my soon-to-arrive son. But we haven't completely settled on a place to live yet, and our options are down to two. I hope to be moved in by next week and get as far away from the Manor as possible.

"Quit fussing," she giggles from the other side of the bed, watching me overthink things once again. Our luggage is sprawled across the room, things completely out of place. I don't see any reason to unpack if we won't be staying long.

"It's going to take a minute to readjust the wards," I grumble, fiddling with my wand. Blocking off my wing of the Manor is easy enough, but unfortunately the library is not within that wing. It crosses over into the Manor section of my childhood home, and although it's easy enough to block off a large chunk of the Manor and designate it to us simply to keep Hermione entertained, I'm not willing to sit through a lecture from my mother about how it is rude to block off one's personal belongings from them.

It's preposterous really. The books belong to every Malfoy after all.

"I doubt either of your parents will seriously go to the library so long as I am here," she says, sitting down beside me. "My reputation does proceed me Draco. Everyone knows that I'll be nose deep in those books so long as we are here."

"I don't think I'll chance another _accident_ on my father's behalf. Whether or not he's half mad, it didn't give him the right to invite in just anyone to the Manor. It is his fault that Atticus got in here to begin with."

"Well," she muses, playing with my blond hair, "Atticus and Theo are both in Azkaban now. They won't get out for a long time Draco. After everything they did it will be hard to get any sort of parole. I can't say I'm ecstatic about what your father did either, but I will not hold it against him. It was stupid, but both I and our son escaped without any lasting damage. For that we can be grateful."

"He shouldn't have bloody gotten in at all!" I seethe. "That's the point."

"The Nott's were determined," she points out, caressing my shoulder. "One way or another they would have found a way to get to me."

"I'm not okay with that either."

"Well you need to stop fussing," she sighed. "They are locked away now and there's no chance of them escaping. Please just relax? We've only been out of school for a day and already you're overworking yourself."

A smile pulls gently at my lips. "I suppose I am."

She knows how to read me, even if she doesn't always admit to it. And I've learned how to read her quite well over the past several months. Aside from the chaos of an approaching child, life hasn't been too demanding other than schoolwork. Without the threats and stress that came with our fall semester of school life has been pretty melodramatic these past several months.

I'm sure that will go away when the due-date arrives. I'm just hoping if Siren traits are possible in a baby that they aren't very apparent. I can only imagine what kind of drama that would stir up around the magical community. Best that stays a secret just between those who already know.

"We haven't picked out a name yet for him," she muses, closing her eyes. "I don't want it to be something completely outrageous."

"And Hermione isn't a slightly odd name?"

She sits up just long enough to glare at me. "Well it isn't as uncommon as Draco, that's for sure. And I can't imagine it being another constellation- talk about a mouthful."

"What, something like Hydrus isn't appealing?"

Hermione knows I'm playing with her, but that doesn't stop her glare. "I'm serious. There isn't a lot of time left before the baby arrives. I was already a month and a half along when we found out. There are only about six weeks left you know until the due date and we should have a name."

I shudder at that number, unable to fathom that there is so little time left until our son arrives. "Don't remind me Hermione, there's still so much to do before he arrives. What about something a little less out there? There's always bland names like Harry?"

"Harry is _not_ a boring name. Actually, it's the most popular baby name in Britain right now," she replies smugly, surely thinking of her scar-headed friend.

"It's still a boring name. Come on, our child is going to be the son of an ancient formally-pureblood family and the descendant of the most famous muggle-born in history. If we give him an average name it will be almost disappointing."

"To us or to the rest of the world?" she asks, tilting her head. "Draco it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of our son's name, so long as we both like it. And I'm sure we'll pick the perfect name for him, once we decide on one."

"You're very positive about this aren't you?"

"Well, it's going to be hard to match something up with a last name like Malfoy anyway," she grumbles. "Really, couldn't you have a simpler last name?"

"I hardly think my last name is the reason why we can't come to an agreement about a first name."

"I disagree. The previous Malfoy's seem to have already picked every suitable name to go with that last name."

"Oh really? I think something like Amun or Orion would be just fine."

She blinks at me, obviously perplexed by my choices. Maybe I wasn't right about my ideas. "You can't be serious can you? Those are just awful!"

I huff, giving up. This has to be why we haven't decided on anything yet- she's completely disagreeable. "Fine, fine- we'll go back to the boring names like Harry."

"Would you quit saying that!?"

Chuckling, I kiss her temple softly. "No darling, it's the honest truth."

* * *

Hermione retires an hour later to the library, off to dip her nose into too much reading. I knew she would be off as soon as she got the motivation to walk down there, which is pretty much the whole reason why I stressed to get the wards adjusted to include the library so quickly. I knew she would have no patience to wait around for me to adjust them if I didn't get them done before her interest peeked. The last time we were here she didn't really get to spend a lot of time down there, as we were too concerned about other things. But now everything's calmed down aside from the arrival of our son in a few weeks, and that's really the only drama life has thrown our way.

I really can't wait until she gets hungry and tries to go visit the house elves. They were offended enough the last time she visited, completely terrified that a human was entering the kitchen looking for food. I had to steer her away several times to avoid an outburst. If she goes down there looking for something to eat in her very pregnant (and slightly moody) state the elves will throw a fit. I'm sure I'll be alerted right away that she's down there once again, though it's not a journey I really want to make to drag her out.

I should probably just go check on her in a bit and make sure she is alright. Then I can get her some food myself and ignore the entire event.

I've busied myself by looking through some of the baby gifts we've received. Hermione had a baby shower many weeks ago- curtsey of Ginny Weasley, who is really the only reason she bothered having one- and the entire event was a bit overpowering. After several months everyone is back on hesitant ground with the ginger girl, but I still won't speak a word to her. Perhaps it's childish of me, but I think it's foolish for Hermione to forgive someone so easily who had a hand in her attempted murder. If the party didn't have other people attending I would have been at it for sure.

I wasn't personally at the baby shower, as I was a bit too afraid to sit in a room with a bunch of girls giggling about an upcoming baby, but apparently some uninvited guests made their grand entrance and while they brought gifts, they also brought drama too. And apparently one of these lovely females was Pansy Parkinson.

The Weaselette also told me one of the Greengrass sisters attended but could neither tell me which sister nor if it was definitely one of them. Since I'm not really on speaking terms with either I never found out if that was true or not, and they were not the only ones among the crowd who snuck in. Apparently there were a few dozen girls who came in unexpectedly, looking for answers about our relationship or just a good bout of teenage gossip, still stuck in the thrills of their final year at Hogwarts. All of the unexpected were removed rather quickly, though their presence remained. We made sure to check them over for jinxes and spells right away, but they all turned out fine.

Nonetheless, we probably won't use them. Thought or not, they were from people who crashed a baby shower of all things.

I've been amusing myself since Hermione's departure by looking through some of the miscellaneous gifts, things we haven't really spend much time on. They've been pushed aside and left in a bag in the bottom of my trunk. I decided it would do some good to at least look through them.

Most of its boring, literally. I'm beginning to fall asleep. Picking up a journal I groan, thinking this is some lame idea to write down your first days with your baby- as though we don't already have twelve of those. Flipping idly through the pages I feel my eyes droop. Maybe a nap will do…

I arch an eyebrow as something falls from the book to my lap. Looking down I find a pressed flower sitting in my lap. Only it's not a regular pressed flower- it's a rose, and it's black.

Picking up the flower I frown, thinking this isn't exactly what you give someone before they have a child. It's a bit dark, even for a Slytherin. Black roses rarely mean good things. Before I can ponder if further though, the rose disintegrates, blowing apart in my fingers until dust remains. I look to the window to find it shut. The rose did that on its own.

The book slams shut and I glare at it, studying the binding. I doubt that was a wish for good luck.

"Who sent you?" I wonder aloud, looking for markings. There's nothing identifiable on the book, other than the binding being slightly worn. No name, no markings, just a plain black book with no calling card.

"You're certainly not a beacon for good luck," I grunt, setting the book down. Glancing at the pile of miscellaneous gifts again I frown, wondering if I should look through everything again with a closer eye. It may be nothing more than a forgotten rose in a book, but after everything that happened to us I'm not willing to take any chances. Atticus and Theo might be in Azkaban, but that doesn't mean they didn't tell someone about Hermione's Siren traits beforehand.

I know a few sneaky Slytherin girls who might be at fault here, but then again I've come to discover some not-so-honest Gryffindor's and even an untrustworthy Ravenclaw or two as well. Everyone has a dark side, and I really can't rule anyone out when considering who might have sent the rose.

_You're overreacting. It's a bloody rose._

Glancing at the book again, I am interrupted from my thoughts by the bedroom door opening, Hermione's form blocking the doorway. She has about a dozen books with her.

"Draco? Would you help me set these books down before this poor elf sends himself into hysteria? What did you say your name was again dear?"

"Ziggy," the poor elf says, stumbling in behind her. I hurry over, snatching the overpowering stack away from my girlfriend. She has her wand on her, I can see it poking out of her pocket. But it is so very bookworm-like of her to carry every book she decided to retrieve from the library. And poor Ziggy only tried to help her so she didn't get hurt.

"You know you could always levitate these things," I point out, setting the tall stack down. "Then you wouldn't have to worry anyone. Besides, the bump had to make it twice as troublesome for you."

She sticks her tongue out at me in a very childish manner. "Draco, I don't work out anymore because I am pregnant. Carrying my own books at least gets my arms doing something. And it's not like the library is that far from here."

"Still-"

"Now you," she says, turning completely away from me, "Are you alright? You got so close to me while I was walking, and I'm afraid I may have stepped on you-"

"Oh misses please," Ziggy says, looking at her in alarm, "Do not apologize to Ziggy! Ziggy is sorry for troubling the misses!"

"Oh, don't be sorry-"

"Hermione," I say, placing my hands on her arms. "You'll make it worse."

"Draco-"

"That will be all Ziggy!" I say quickly, gesturing that he should leave immediately. Without hesitation the poor elf leaves with a pop.

Turning to glare at me, she places her hands on her hips. "What did you go and do that for? I was going to talk to him! Now you've banished the poor fellow to the kitchen!"

"He's fine," I say, leading her back to the bed. I kick the journal to the side, resolving to look through it later. Anything else dangerous can be found when she isn't around. "We don't treat our house elves bad you know- at least mother and I don't. We don't really let father speak with them. He tends to get away with unsavory things if he has control over an elf."

"This is completely unfair to them-"

"I know," I say, already imagining the lecture she might give me. "I see you collected some interesting titles from the library. Did you find anything I might like?"

"You know distracting me isn't going to work…"

I zone her out for just a moment, thinking of the journal. I won't tell her about the rose for now, at least not until I have a second look. I'm probably just overreacting, thinking too hard about things that are over, but I can't help but be worried. Roses don't just fall out of books every day, and certainly not black, dead roses.

* * *

"I knew you weren't asleep," she says, slipping out past the curtains. I glance up at her, the bathrobe clinging to her form. It's a chilly June night.

"You should be sleeping," I say, not glancing in her direction. "You need your rest."

"So do you," she grunts, sitting beside me on my balcony. I've had the doors to this shut for so long it's almost foreign to sit out here. "We have a lot to do tomorrow. We still have to settle on a flat to live in, and the sooner we do we can get out of this depressing place."

"I know. I've already made myself a to-do list."

She laughs at that. I can imagine that the very idea of me making a to-do list is rather humorous. "I haven't even made one of those!"

"That's why I made one," I say, placing an arm around her. "We have lots to do before our son arrives."

She shrugs, laying her head against me as she yawns. "We still have some time."

"Aren't you supposed to be the one freaking out?" I joke, kissing her forehead. She's already nodding off to sleep. "Hey! I knew you were tired."

"It's past one in the morning," she says, eyeing me through droopy lids. "What's keeping you awake?"

I shrug, tucking my findings into the back of my head. It's just a book, one that's got under my skin. I'm not going to mention it to Hermione though, not when her stress levels are supposed to stay low and she's supposed to be relaxing. This is a problem I'm going to have to fix myself.

"I've just got a lot on my mind I suppose," I lie, only telling her half the truth.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks sleepily, the exhaustion getting to her.

"No," I say, playfully pulling on her curls. "I feel like you'd fall asleep on me anyway. Come on, it's late. Let's go back to bed before this chilly air gets the best of both of us."

She looks at me seriously as I help her stand. "Are you sure you're going to sleep?"

I wink her way, snatching the book up as we pass back into my room. "I'll try darling."

Setting the book down I try to banish it from my head for the night. The problem is I can't forget about the second flower I found, how it popped out of nowhere and fell into my lap a second time. It was the same black rose, dead and thorny. Only this one dripped red like blood, leaving the briefest stain upon my trousers, a stain I was quick to remove. I couldn't have Hermione seeing that.

Now I know something is seriously wrong with the journal. If only I knew who sent it.

* * *

**A/n:** Here's chapter one! There will be some flashbacks to hint at the unfolding mystery and to help fill in some of the time between the gap in the prologue and now. Expect those in the coming chapters :D

Thank you to everyone who followed/favorite/reviewed this story! I think I'm finally getting into this sequel- the flowers are a fun twist, and it builds up some mystery again! Plus you can see how relationships unfolded among Hermione and Draco and their friends. There's lots to touch on here.

I'm completely open to baby name suggestions. Honestly I have no idea what to name the poor kid!

If you're interested you can check out the link to my facebook on my profile, or take the poll there. Thanks for reading!

Until next time~

Lezonne (Haley)


	3. Moods

**A/n: **I'm going to be looking for a few additional betas for other stories if anyone is interested. Please PM me or send forth a review saying so :) I will get back to you.

_Falling slowly, eyes that know me_

_And I can't go back_

_The moods that take me and erase me_

_And I'm painted black_

_Glen Hansard - Falling Slowly_

I tap my fingers against the wood again, completely in my own little world.

Blaise catches my hand, irritation evident in his face. "For Merlin's sake, would you stop that?"

It's odd to sit alongside my old friend here at the restaurant. With Hermione stepping into my life some time ago, I distanced myself from all my friends. When we became unsure who was behind the threats, I even shunned away close friends like Blaise. Perhaps that was a mistake. I could have used a friend during such uncertain times.

Maybe it was for the best. I've forgotten how easy it is to irritate my friend.

Shrugging I pull away from him, reclining in the chair. I flooed him to have lunch with me for the first time in forever, and thus far I've bored him with nonexistent conversation and brooding looks into the distance. He's obviously less than amused.

"Are you ever going to tell me what's going on?"

"There's nothing to tell Blaise," I say, knowing that my lie falls on deaf ears. He doesn't believe my lie for a minute. "It' just been a long time."

"That's not the reason we've been hanging out more," he replied, frowning. "What gives Draco? I know you were concerned that I wouldn't receive Granger well, but now everyone knows the two of you are together and preparing for a baby. Yet you still act like there's some sort of momentous secret you're keeping."

_You have no idea. _"Our relationship didn't start out… typically."

"So you've said," he replies, arching an eyebrow in my direction. "You still haven't explained anything really. You're quite secretive in fact."

"I have my reasons," I say. "And it's better that some things stay secret for now."

Frowning, Blaise tips his drink again. "Are you sure? Maybe it would all be better if things were out in the open. You're not keeping things from Hermione are you?"

"No." There's another lie.

He gives me one final curious look before dropping the topic. Despite Theo and Atticus being locked away in Azkaban, I still don't sleep well at night. I still have absolutely no idea who sent the dead roses.

Maybe he's right, maybe there's nothing to worry about at all.

Or maybe I should be _very_ worried.

* * *

"Oh come on, it's not all going to be green."

"He is going to be a boy," I reply with a grin. "Green seems… perfect."

"Green is your old house color."

"What? I'm not saying he has to be a Slytherin in eleven years… but green is my favorite color."

"Mhmm," she replies skeptically, looking at the newest bit of clothing we've picked out. "I would like to remind you that we have picked out nothing red either."

"Red is a girl color."

"Pink is a girly color!" she cried, eyes widening. "Red isn't defined by a gender. It's just as socially acceptable to wear red if you're a boy, yet we _somehow_ skipped over that section."

"I was beginningto get concerned," I joke, smirking. "You were trying to buy purple."

"And boys can't wear purple either?"

"Um, no."

"Well Draco, then you better expand your mind," she says, tossing my green outfit aside. "Purple is a fine color, especially this purple! We're not going to miraculously loose it on the way to check out."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, I'm absolutely positive."

I roll my eyes, only slightly defeated. We're still lacking red after all.

"Do we really need this much clothing?" she continues as we move on. "We received a ton from the baby shower you know."

"And babies run through clothes like none other. We'll be out of outfits in a few weeks that haven't been destroyed or outgrown."

"People bought me more than enough clothes," she presses. "Trust me, I know. I had to open each bloody package."

I smile, watching her collect a few more items as we stroll about. Hermione already knew exactly what she wanted before we ever entered. I'm just here for company, and apparently incorrect clothing suggestions.

She turns down an aisle and I wait at the front, noticing the other people collected there. I've just begun speculating over the mass amount of baby products sitting in our shopping cart when a hand lands on my shoulder. Even before I look up I know this isn't Hermione.

"Draco!" the woman cries, throwing her arms around me. I peel her right back off, already irritated. There's that loud, squeaky voice again. And to think that I expected to never hear it again.

"Pansy."

"Out baby shopping?" she asks, eyeing the shopping cart. "Granger didn't get enough from her baby shower?"

Right, I totally forgot she attended the baby shower. I've been focusing too much on the strange journal and not the people in attendance. Eyeing Pansy suspiciously, I try to pay close attention to her actions as Hermione appears again.

"Hello Pansy," Hermione says, her tone icy and irritated. "Finally got knocked up did you?"

I have to keep in mind that she's also snarkier than usual. Someday I'll be on the receiving end of those witty remarks.

My old classmate purses her lips, mulling Hermione's words over in her mind. "I was just browsing."

"Unfortunately this isn't your kind of store," she snaps back. "I doubt we just ran into each other."

"Maybe we didn't, but I was looking for Draco really, not your dearie."

I cringe. Well, it was nice knowing Pansy anyway.

"He's busy right now," she replies, annoyed. "Can't you just owl him or something? We're actually in the middle of couple things right now. It doesn't really have anything to do with you."

"Maybe not," Pansy relents for one last time. She glances down at the cart full of baby supplies that we've purchased one last time. Her hand dances briefly over the fabric of one outfit before she moves back. "Perhaps I'll try again some other time. Good day."

I frown as she wanders off. She is displaying behavior that is nothing like the Pansy Parkinson that I know. She didn't snort back replies with her whiny little voice and she didn't look peeved really when Hermione told her to leave. Strange.

_Dead black roses…_

I'm not entirely sure Pansy is capable of threats. She's vengeful when she has a grudge, and she'll report anything to the papers for publicity, but she isn't a true, honest threat. Maybe I don't need to worry about her.

"She couldn't just owl," Hermione grumbles, grabbing the shopping cart. Something tell me she wouldn't be elated if Pansy sent me an owl either, but at least it wouldn't have interrupted the middle of our outing. She does anything she can these days to stay out of the limelight. I'm surprised she even came out with me today. There are simply too many reporters about.

We wander to pay, no more words exchanged. I ponder Hermione as we stand in line, recalling the first time she and Pansy had a true conversation.

"_So this is the girl you knocked up?" Pansy asked, arms crossed in front of her. "Potter's little-"_

"_Enough Pansy," I cut in sharply, glaring at her. "You will not speak to Hermione in any sort of demeaning manner."_

"_I don't really think she's capable of that," Hermione retorts from her seat at the table. We had been out to lunch, just around the time Hermione began to show a bump. Pansy was out that day with Astoria and Daphne, both of which were surprisingly nowhere to be found. "What do you want Parkinson?"_

_Even I know Pansy's quick for a snappy retort, but she held her tongue that day. I'll never know what kept those two women from having a verbal war. I can only imagine the insults that would be thrown._

"_I just came by to say hello to Draco."_

"_Anything else?" I press, wondering what could possibly convince her that it is a good idea to interrupt our lunch. "Couldn't you just owl or something?"_

"_We never talk anymore you know. There's so much I would love to discuss with you."_

_Hermione raises an eyebrow at that, and I already know what she is thinking. Pansy laughs at the expression on her face._

"_I'm not interested in a shag if that's what you're thinking sweetie," she laughed, smirking in Hermione's direction. "I know better than to fool around with anyone with a child. Which by the way, have you planned a shower yet? You might consider using his connections you know. Some of Draco's dear friends are well off. You might want to start out your life as a mother in style. Take advantage of his friends- people like me for example."_

_I frown, wondering what the hell that is supposed to mean. What exactly possesses Pansy of all people to bring up such a topic is something I cannot fathom. I find it hard to believe that she would want to spend any time with Hermione, except for purely selfish reasons. But she doesn't have any real motives to even bother us. _

"_I haven't given it much thought," she replied icily. "I don't need the entire community there though. I only need my close friends and family. They are the only real people I care about having there anyway."_

"_I see," Pansy sighed, shaking her head. "Do think about changing your mind. You have the potential to receive a lot of fabulous gifts. Oh look, there's Blaise. I must be off."_

_Hermione says something in response to that, but I don't hear what she says. I watch Pansy dance off towards my old friend, someone she has had little connection to for a long time. I don't see what would make her suddenly want to strike up a conversation with him._

_She doesn't look back, and I focus on Hermione again. _

I glance outside the shop windows, wondering if my assumption would be true. There outside stand Blaise and Pansy. He looks confused, but she has a sickening little smirk pulling at her lips.

I'll half to talk to my best friend. Something seems out of sorts.

* * *

"Will it be ready soon enough?"

"Before the week is up," I assure her, looking at the same set of paperwork that she is. "Then we'll be out of this miserable place for good."

She smiles, hands coming to rest over mine. "And to think that my little schoolgirl self always imagined that your world grow up to be the same haunting figure Lucius is, and you'd live in this dingy old place forever."

"Maybe in a different life that's how things would've ended up. But then your siren traits just had to go and call out to me…"

Hermione grins, smacking me playfully on the arm. "Sorry, I guess the idea of living alone away from society for the rest of my life didn't really appeal to me."

"I don't know, you were always kind of a loner in school. I mean sure you had Potter and Weasley, but they weren't into many of the things you were. You spent a lot of time cooped up around books."

"Books were my confidents for a long time," she replies with a shrug. "Sometimes I only wanted to face the books. I love my friends dearly, but sometimes the things that come out of their mouths are completely ridiculous."

I snicker, recalling a conversation I had with Weasley some weeks ago. "The Weasel asked if our child would look just like me- a pale faced sissy boy."

Her eyebrows shot up. "And you laughed at that?"

"Well, not entirely. I told him at least my children won't be annoying like Lavender Brown."

She nearly chokes on her drink, half coughing half trying not to laugh. Weasley has been with the girl for quite some time now, and he has literally not patience. He might pop the question of marriage before we even have a baby.

"And he wasn't offended by that?"

"Oh, he was plenty offended."

Hermione shook her head, hiding her smile. While many of Weasley's friends didn't approve of his dating choices, Hermione didn't seem too upset by it. I suppose she's over the spat that resulted from Lavender Brown during sixth year.

"So we can move soon?" she questioned, drawing me from my thoughts. "I would love to be settled before our son arrives."

"Our nameless son," I remind. "We still have no ideas."

"Hayden?"

"Hayden?" I reply, crinkling my nose. "You want a son named Hayden?"

"Well, it's better than_ Scorpius_," she teased, recalling one of my earlier suggestions. I roll my eyes. The first time I brought it up she laughed, thinking this was some sort of joke.

"There's nothing wrong with that name."

"It's a ridiculous name. You know how there are nametags, pens, knives, and an assortment of other things that children love to buy that have their names imprinted on it? Scorpius would never exist on anything."

"Oh, because I'm sure as a kid you often got little trinkets with _Hermione_ written on them."

She crossed her arms, scowling playfully. "Well, sometimes I wanted to. Some of my muggle friends always had them."

"I never had a fetish for anything like that," I say, sipping my coffee. "What about Alexander? That's one of the most bland, commonplace names possible."

"It's not that bad Draco. Actually, I kind of like the name Alexander."

"Now that one was supposed to be a joke."

She kicks me lightly beneath the table. "It's not a bad name. Let's keep that one in mind."

"If we must."

A moment of silence passes between us, and I notice her eyes darting over the papers curiously once again. "So we still haven't planned much for the nursery. We do have a lot of clothing though."

"We can stop by sometime this week to decide what _else_ we need to buy. I know you received a crib and a laundry basket at the shower."

"And too many other things," she grumbled. "I want to think of a color for the walls. We know we're having a son, but I don't want a traditional, boring blue room for a boy. I was thinking green-"

"_Slytherin_ green?" I ask, waggling my eyebrows suggestively. She shoots me a scowl.

"_No,_ a baby version of green. Kind of a caterpillar color."

I blink, staring at her in utter confusion. "What the hell does caterpillar green look like?"

"Well, when we go see the house this week I'll show you," she says with a wink. "My mother has a sample at her house. We've been looking over colors for days really. She's excited about the baby."

"So is my mother, but in different ways. She's more worried about his first formal introduction into society."

Hermione crinkles her nose. "What kind of _formal introduction_ can a baby have? We're not going to over-publicize him."

"I know. The sooner she understands that the better it will be for everyone."

She nods, and silence falls over us again. I take a brief moment to glance her over, smiling at the bulge in her middle. There's a part of me that cannot wait to meet my son, but an even larger side of me that's completely terrified.

"I've been reading up on Siren babies."

The witch draws me from my thoughts, surprising me with the sudden change of topic. I frown, noticing the crease between her eyebrows.

"Did you find something disturbing? We read that book months ago Hermione, we've been preparing along the way."

"I know. We haven't taken any chances, but so far everything has been smooth sailing. We haven't run into any problems yet."

Yes, problems. I recall some of the more frightening mentions of Siren children.

_Magical children alone can have strange reactions to the body of a muggle or halfblood. Sometimes the child is more powerful than the parent, and it can make the mother sick sometimes if the child withholds a lot of power._

_Powerful Siren children sometimes make the mother ill. With the same sort of traits that she has, the child can often upset the mother's internal systems. Two highly powerful powers stirring together inside one person is a very difficult thing on the body many times. It can cause stomach aches, nausea/vomiting, headaches progressing to migraines and fainting spells._

"I mean I used to get nauseous all the time, but it was probably just the typical signs of pregnancy," she mused. "However I did some more reading on the subject."

"You always do darling."

"And I found something curious," she continues, as though I hadn't said a thing. Getting up from the desk in my room she wanders towards a stack of books she had brought back from the library. Picking up the top one she returned, sitting on the desk this time.

"Here, read this page. I found the contents interesting. Start just there."

I glance at her finger, noticing the short bit of text she's expecting me to read. Curious, I scan the contents rather quickly.

…_Siren's. Not much is known about these mythical beings. We won't waste our time researching the hybrid humans here, as it is suspected that Siren's no longer exist. This we think is due to dominant and recessive genes. _

_In witches and wizards the magical genes are typically dominant when faced against a muggle gene- the recessive. In the case of Siren's, they were once upon a time different from witches entirely. One must have gotten with a wizard at some point in history, and thus Siren blood passed into the realm of witches and wizards. But this is only a theory, and possibly even the wrong one._

_There are a few curious things about dominant and recessive genes in the case of Siren's however. When a Siren mates with a muggle man, the Siren trait will always be dominant. Due to this, there were many more Siren's centuries ago when magical beings were not interested in sleeping with someone who wasn't a pureblood, much less a witch. _

_When a Siren has a child, if the dominant gene happens to be on the Siren's side, the child born will always be a girl. This is how reproduction continued in the Siren world, and kept these creatures alive for quite some time._

_However when a Siren mates with a wizard the Siren's genes become recessive. Some theories suggest that the Siren is not as strong as a wizard, ergo the switch to a Siren's traits always being recessive. But as we look towards more modern research studies on these nearly-fictional creatures we notice that Siren's also begin to become witches as time progresses on. So if the Siren is part Siren, part witch, then it makes sense why the Siren trait is lost during mating. _

_And if the magical traits always take over, then theoretically there should be very few Siren's, if any, left in the world. Yet we believe there still are some._

_So if a Siren and a muggle create a Siren offspring, who is always female, does that mean that a Siren and a wizard will always spawn a male offspring, so there should never be a Siren girl born from a Siren witch married to a wizard?_

_It appears so, but that leaves one question- what happens to the Siren traits? While it seems that traits are lost almost every single time, sometimes that is not always the case. While a son is normally born if the father is a wizard, sometimes a small amount of Siren traits transfer into the son. Some theorize that this results in some Veela children being born into families with no heritage of Veela traits, but this is very uncommon. Usually if the child were to be born with Veela traits, then the pregnancy would take ten to ten and a half months before the child were to be born…_

I stop reading, glancing up at Hermione. She's sitting there watching me closely, twirling her thumbs.

"You think there's some sort of sense behind all of this? It's a book on theories, and compared to some of the books we read back when all this first began the research is muddy at best. I mean Veela's are something that people of today actually know and recognize. Veela's are uncommon but not mythical, not like Siren's are. I don't know if I'd believe any of this."

She turns away, and I watch her move towards the mirror. Hands on her hips, she speaks to me again. "I'm not as far along in my pregnancy as people expect me to be. I'm almost a month behind schedule, yet everything is still healthy and fine. The Healer's don't understand why."

"I recall this conversation actually."

"You should, you were there. It just got to me I suppose Draco. After the drama of everything it scared me a little to think about our son possibly having these powers… or possibly being a Veela even."

"I sincerely doubt it," I assure her, stepping up behind her to kiss her cheek. "Don't worry so much Hermione. Our son will be born healthy and well, Siren trait free."

"You don't have a case of Veela history in your family do you?"

"Not that I'm aware of." I kiss her neck, arms wrapping around her short frame to rest on her stretched middle. "You look beautiful by the way."

She chuckles. "I look pudgy is what I look. I can't imagine being too far behind schedule. There's no chance I can get much larger than this."

Shaking my head, I kiss her cheek a second time. "Beauty is all I see."

* * *

**A/n:** A little sappy at the end there, but I thought a hint of romance would be nice.

I struggled to write this chapter. The words just wouldn't flow. I still think the writing is a bit strained and it comes across that way. Maybe the next chapter will be smoother.

Review if you have a moment or if you want to comment some baby names :) I still have no idea what to call their son.

Until next time dearies!


	4. Love

**A/n:** Not yet edited. It's being sent through shortly.

* * *

_A successful marriage involves falling in love many times,_

_always with the same person._

_~Mignon McLaughlin_

"Honestly Draco, when are you going to propose?"

"_Mother-_"

"I know, I know. You don't want to be _pressured_. But your child can't be born a bastard-"

"_Mother_," I insist, feeling the vein in my head begin to bulge. "Enough, please. I'm not going to propose to Hermione. It's too soon; we aren't there in our relationship. Merlin, we've barely had a regular relationship since we got together. There's been one twist after another."

She looks worried, tapping only fingernails persistently against the wood of the table. We've been at this discussion for quite some time now, and she's still insistent that I must marry Hermione before our son is due. Honestly, it's modern day, not the era she was married in. Times have changed.

"Draco, you know I mean well, but never has a Malfoy been born-"

"He won't be a Malfoy," I grumble, crossing my arms tensely, "He'll be a Granger. At least until we're married. I'm not labeling him with my last name until we've married properly."

My mother sighs, looking away briefly. We've been at this conversation for almost an hour now, practically since I arrived and found her in the gardens. She's pushing this topic, but I will have none of it. She can't force things just because she thinks it's a good idea.

"And how long until that marriage Draco? How long until you three are a proper family? I may disagree with your choice in Miss Granger, but you should at least wed her before the due date. It will start you three off as a picture-perfect family. People will have less to gossip about."

"I really don't care what people gossip about," I groan, rolling my eyes. "So long as someone wants to, there is always something to gossip about. And mother only a few months ago I recall you being kind to Hermione. Actually, you've been almost civil with her since the court case blowout. Why are you being icy again?"

"I want you to have a proper marriage to support the baby," she says simply, sipping her tea. "When your father and I discovered that I was with child we rushed preparations for a wedding accordingly. We were wed many months _before_ you were born."

"As kindly as that is, you're forcing a topic that I'm not ready for. We've hardly experimented being an honest couple. I'd rather spend my time taking Hermione out on dates and establishing something before I press her to accept my hand. Despite our rushed beginnings she's structured, and she likes to take things slowly. Everything is supposed to be done according to a science to her, but that got screwed up with the Siren nonsense. I know she doesn't want to rush what we have, and with a baby on the way it makes sense to not press matters."

Mother presses her lips together tightly, obviously unhappy with what I have to say. When kind talking didn't do the trick these past months she's resorted to being crude. It's not working in her favor either.

"Draco she's what, four-five- months along now? The baby will be here in such a short time. I know the pair of you went looking for a home yesterday-"

"We discussed this, mother. I purchased the house yesterday."

"Whatever. The point is you shouldn't dally. Please, if you won't ask her before your son is born then why not a few months after? He could be in the wedding- oh, that would be just darling!"

I knew this would happen. Despite trying to be angry about my lack of progress with trying to wed Hermione, mother always gets distracted and happy whenever we talk about my unborn son for too long. She's simply elated for his arrival.

"And how goes the name search? I hope you've made more progress since the last time I asked."

"Hermione desires to name him Hayden," I say, making a face. Mother cringes as well.

"Hayden? That's a terrible name. What about Alexander? Now that's a strong, Malfoy name."

"I think I may have already tried that one- or at the very least it's in the realm of possibility. But isn't Alexander too bland?"

"It does lack the uncommon edge that Malfoy names are known for," she agrees, leaning back in her chair. Mother could talk for hours about baby names alone. "How about Alexei?"

"It might be too exotic for Hermione's standards," I say with a shrug. My tea is now cold, sitting forgotten on the table in front of us. I arrived here earlier with a purpose, and thus far I have been completely distracted from it due to the common talk of my child.

"What about Cygnus?" she continues, looking away fondly for a moment. I know that name immediately, and frown at the mention.

"Your father's name was Cygnus. From what I recall you were not fond of him."

"My father could have been a better man than he was," she replies dismissively, flicking her hand. "And anyway it's different from the Malfoy tradition of constellations. This is the first time someone has dared to step out of Pureblood traditions Draco. We might as well scrap the constellation idea too."

My brows shoot up at her words. One moment my mother is icy about Hermione's heritage, and the next she is damning ours. I'm not entirely sure where she stands with everything right now.

"Perhaps we should," I muse, studying my nails a moment. A silence falls between us, and I take the time to actually get to my point for stopping by today. I should be back with Hermione, preparing to move to our new home tomorrow, but right now I'm distracted by something that's been pulling on my mind.

"Mother," I begin, pushing my tea away, "Do we have a history of Veela's in our family?"

She frowns, sitting forward slightly in her chair. "Where did you ever come up with an idea like that Draco?"

I shrug. "It's just a curiosity."

Looking unconvinced by my response, she continues nonetheless. "I think I heard your father saying something about it once upon a time, but that was years ago. And he certainly wasn't a Veela, and neither was his father. If there is a history of Veela's somewhere it will come from his side, but the bloodline would be old and practically dead. You should be more concerned with possible Siren traits your son may inherit."

Nodding, I press the topic further. "Would there possibly be a book somewhere that might elaborate on that? And maybe explain it to me more?"

"Why the sudden curiosity? Veela's should be the last thing on your mind at a time like this."

_If only they were. I'm never going to forget about that bloody book Hermione showed me._

"Is there mother?" I continue, ignoring her question. She sighs, shaking her head.

"I would assume so. You can always search through the library before you leave. Or you could try asking your father about it."

I scoff, standing from the table. "As if I'll waste the breath to talk to him. I'll see you at dinner, Hermione and I will both be down here for our last supper in the Manor."

Bidding her goodbye I leave the sitting room, though I can still feel her eyes on my back. Mother knows I'm up to something if I'm off looking for strange books, but right now I could care less about what anyone is thinking. I'm more interested in fully understand how the hell a Siren can suddenly give birth to a Veela- and why the hell no one ever thought it useful to mention to me that I might have some sort of ancient Veela heritage.

_Veelas. Hmph. I wonder who pulled this idea out of their arse. Really, why the hell did Veelas have to get involved in this?_

* * *

"_I think your tie is crooked, and I've never once seen your tie crooked in the eight years I've known you."_

"_Are you seriously fussing over my tie at a time like this?" I stress, studying my witch with an appreciative eye. She hasn't started showing yet, but she looks absolutely gorgeous in the dress I bought her last week. I always knew I had good taste. _

_The announcement has blown out the front page of every paper in Britain- Hermione and I am having a child. People may as well be having a riot over it. I've been followed by the press before, but never like this._

_Tonight isn't about our child though- we're simply guests at a bigger meeting. The ball held to benefit those who were bankrupt by the war is well underway, sponsored by the one and only Scarhead. While many reporters are focused on the events of the night, many more are milling about trying to get a statement from Hermione and I. It's so tiresome to avoid people. _

"_Draco I spilled wine on Parkinson's dress. Worse things have happened in the world."_

"_Yes but you're not going to be the one hearing about it tomorrow. I can imagine how long she'll dwell on the topic. 'Oh, Draco, that dress was an ungodly amount of money and your date ruined it doing whatever and now I'm completely ruined'."_

"_Nice Pansy impression," she laughs, shaking her head at me as she straightens my tie. "Does she always complain in such a high-pitched voice?"_

"_You seem to have forgotten that she talks in that same high pitched voice."_

_Shaking her head as she chuckles at me Hermione pulls me back into the crowd. Our secluded space is gone now as she drags me out in the open again to mingle amongst people I can't associate with in the least. Weasley actually tried to strike up conversation with me earlier before I called him Weaselbee, and once again I became the Ferret. civility here is unheard of when it comes to speaking with me._

"_Sorry," someone says as they bump into me. I hardly pay the person any mind as we pass, unsure whether or not it was even a male or female. I'm focused on Hermione now, who is practically skipping through the crowd. She's in such a bloody chipper mood._

_Someone grabs my shoulder from behind, stopping Hermione from pulling me any further. I glance over my shoulder, annoyed, wondering who the hell thinks they can just stop us. I don't appreciate being grabbed._

"_I said sorry," the person states again, hand gripping my shoulder tightly. It's a girl, young and pretty, probably only a year or so younger than we are. But boy does she seem like the angry type._

"_Your fine," I grunt, pushing her hand off. I turn, ignoring the girl once more as I take the lead and guide Hermione away, who keeps shooting the woman some strange looks. _

"_She was a bit snappy."_

"_Yes she was. But don't let her spoil your night doll. We've only been out for a short time."_

_Together we wander back through the crowd, pausing at the refreshment table as we go. I pour Hermione a glass of cider, wondering why that annoying girl is still on my mind. Gazing at the clear liquid a moment, I forget the world around me._

"_Draco, you're not paying attention."_

_Snapping my head up I frown, wondering what Hermione is talking about. I stumble back in surprise, pushing the glass of cider out of her hand. Only now it's something closer to blood than cider, and it's coating her lips, neck, face…_

"_The hell?" I ask, looking around the room. No one is paying us any attention. No one even seems to care that the cider looks like blood and it's coating my girlfriend. Her hands rest against her stomach, which is now larger and rounder than it was a moment ago. I blink, stepping back from her stupidly. _

"_What's going on?" I continue, talking out loud. This is so surreal and strange, and I don't know what to make of it. She's looking at me now, afraid and angry all at the same time. Why did this pleasant dream suddenly morph into something terrible?_

_She's shaking her head, backing away from me. I move forward, no longer afraid and simply worried about her. Eyes wide, she starts screaming at me._

"_You didn't protect me!"_

_I stumble forward, reaching to grasp her. But the moment my fingers touch her skin, she phases away and I'm left touching open air. Looking frantically I search for her, but there's no sign of Hermione anywhere now._

"_You didn't protect us!"_

_The room fades, and suddenly I'm the only one here. Her words ring high in my head, jingling my thoughts around as I wonder where Hermione went, and what was in that drink._

"_Draco."_

"_Where are you?" I cry suddenly, my fears eating me up. I don't know what's happened to her, but all I want to do is find Hermione and hold her. Whatever's going on, it's not normal. It's like my imagination is running away with itself._

"_Draco."_

"_Come back!" I scream, searching the empty space further. No one is left now; there's no one left to hear my cries for help._

"Draco!"

I'm jostled from my sleep by someone shaking me, and in a sweaty delirium I spin around to see who is bothering me. My breath catches when I notice its Hermione, lying beside me in our bed.

_Bed._ As in, it was a dream.

Without saying a word to her I reach out and encompass her in a hug, inhaling deeply as she allows me to hold her tight. It was all just a dream; nothing really happened to her.

I remember the event that Potter held some months ago clearly. Nothing happened like it did in the dream. It was a regular, mundane event that lacked any sort of excitement. Hermione dragged me through the entire night despite the fact that I was positively bored _and_ surrounded by too many Gryffindor's.

But I don't recall the punch becoming blood suddenly. Certainly the entire gathering didn't suddenly disappear and leave me alone with no idea where Hermione and our son went. It was a dream formed from my worries, and the fact that I have yet to explain the subtle threats to her.

Why I've dreamt of something that happened months ago and held no significance in my mind's eye I have no idea. There's no real reason why I should be holding onto the memories of that night. Nothing significant happened.

I had actually completely forgotten about the girl who bumped into me and demanded that I understood she was sorry. It was a face I didn't recognize, and honestly I had completely forgotten about her. I only subconsciously remembered her, which is silly since she played no big significance in my dream.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asks, struggling from my grip. "You seemed to be having a nightmare."

"Something like that," I agree, shrugging. "It was strange, certainly."

"What was it about Draco?"

Closing my eyes again, I lean and plant a soft kiss against her temple. "Nothing, love. Go back to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow, moving."

"You don't understand what a big day of moving is," she replies with a yawn, settling down against my shoulder. "You've never tried moving the muggle way. Now there's an ordeal that takes forever."

"You're right," I agree, unwilling to put up a fight at this late hour. She yawns a second time, and I can feel her drifting back to sleep against me. I should get up and splash some water on my face, maybe go eat something to determine why I'm having ridiculous dreams, but instead I shift and hold her close, thankful that she and our son are here and well. I couldn't imagine something terrible happening to the pair of them again.

Closing my eyes I fight for sleep, but it never comes. In the morning I pretend to have dosed off while Hermione gets up and prepares for the day. I can at least pretend that my nightmare didn't trouble me that much.

* * *

"It's perfect," she breathes as I help her out of the floo. "It's not too big, but it's got great property and look at this living room Draco! It's just perfect."

I smile, watching her study the room again. This was the one house we looked at that we both agreed on, and I bought it the same day we came to see it as a couple. Marriage may have been out of the question hey, we need a house to raise our son in. It's a start anyway to the life I like to imagine leading with her.

"And it'll feel like a real home once we get some furniture into it. Our mix of styles should create a strange looking home."

"But it'll be our home," she laughs, coming back to my side again. "And thankfully, at least with magic it won't take any time to get everything set up. I'm just so excited about the nursery!"

Smiling again, I grab her hand and squeeze it lightly. I'm a bit excited about the nursery too. It will be thrilling to decorate it and fill it with things for our child as time goes on. That and the small library will be the first things she tries to set up.

"We just need to pick a color," I tease as we head upstairs to scope the house out once more before unpacking. "We never did decide on the proper color for our son."

"We've barely decided on a name."

"My mother suggested Cygnus," I say with a chuckle, and she pauses to stare at me. "Cygnus?"

"Well, yes."

"Cygnus Malfoy?"

I frown, tilting my head. "I thought you were going to keep your own name for the baby. We talked about this at one point, didn't we?"

Hermione laughs at that, rolling her eyes. "Oh, we've talked about it. Only whenever we actually start trying to name our son we always pick names that will sound good with the last name Malfoy."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed."

"Me either. We just subconsciously did that, even though I said I would like to keep my last name for him until we discuss something more than what we have right now."

"We can find names that match with Granger, I'm sure."

Shaking her head Hermione steps up to me, getting rather close. "I think you're missing my point Draco."

"Hmm?"

She bites her lip a moment, hesitating before continuing. "I'd like him to have the last name Malfoy. I want it on his birth certificate."

Surprised, my eyebrows shoot up. "And you're sure about that. You're not going to reverse and decide you want him to have your last name?"

"No. Besides," she giggles, her mouth getting dangerously close to my lips, "If something ever happens between his father and I, he's already got the proper last name."

I grin at that, kissing her deeply. No matter what I think I know about her, Hermione is always full of surprises.

**A/n:** Not a lot of emphasis on romance, but I hope to get another chapter out soon. Thoughts? We're going to dig deeper into the mystery now.


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